


When I'm Missing You

by Missy_Mew



Series: One Day At A Time [2]
Category: Markiplier RPF, Markiplier fandom - Fandom, Youtube RPF
Genre: F/M, Fluff and Mush, Fluff and Smut, Long-Distance Relationship, Masturbation, Romance, Sexual Content, Sexual Fantasy, Vaginal Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-08
Updated: 2015-08-08
Packaged: 2018-04-12 01:42:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 15,539
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4460453
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Missy_Mew/pseuds/Missy_Mew
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A continuation set a few months after 'One Day at a Time'.</p><p>When unexpected jealousy upsets you, a surprise from Mark makes it better, but it turns out you aren't the only one that needs a little comfort.</p>
            </blockquote>





	When I'm Missing You

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you all so, so much for all the kudos and hits on the first story. I hope you enjoy this next part as much! Sorry about the long delay, but I work full time and study, so I unfortunately don't have heaps of time to write. I have a few more stories planned and am considering making this a series, so keep an eye out in the future :) 
> 
> Comments, constructive criticism and feedback would be most appreciated. Please read and enjoy!

You had officially decided that long distance relationships were both the best and worst thing ever. Oh, it was awesome having a boyfriend (especially one as wonderful as Mark), but it _sucked_ to live far away from him. You texted and talked on Skype but sometimes it just wasn't enough.

You couldn't help but wish you could just visit him whenever you felt like it, rather than having to sit down and try to work out if and when your schedules synched up enough to spend a weekend together.

It certainly didn't help that the current vibe on that subject seemed to be 'no' and 'never' considering you hadn't seen him since Bob and Mandy’s wedding in June, and it was already September. When you'd promised to try and see each other at least once a month, it really hadn't seemed that impossible at the time. 

There were moments where you couldn't help but be fiercely envious of couples who got to go home to one another every night, or hang out whenever they wanted. 

You didn't want to be ungrateful that you had someone as special and Mark in your life, and the brief time you _had_ spent with him was so very awesome, but it was hard not to be greedy when you missed him like crazy. 

Especially so on days like today where it felt like everything had gone wrong, and what you wanted more than anything was to sink into his warm embrace and let him kiss away your frustration.

Sighing as you pulled your keys from the lock on your front door, you threw them on your kitchen bench and flopped down on your tiny couch. 

God, had you _ever_ been this glad to just be home?

Rolling over onto your back, you toed off your shoes and socks and sighed with relief as you flexed your toes and stretched your legs out. Picking up one of your plush cushions, you hugged it to your chest and sighed again.

You couldn't even remember the last time you'd had such a bad day. Silly as it was, it had all started with sleeping through your morning alarm and spiralled from there.

Even hurrying as much as you could, you'd missed your morning train, which meant you'd been late to your first lecture. Worse, when you'd tried to quietly sneak into the lecture theatre, you'd tripped over nothing and _everyone_ had turned to stare at you as you made an ass out of yourself. Quiet sniggering had rippled across the room, and you'd sat in silent mortification as you willed the class to end.

Still, you'd pushed _that_  (literal) misstep to the back of your mind and tried your best to press on with the rest of your day...

Only to be rewarded with the realisation that you'd left one of your notebooks on your desk at home and it was (of course) the one that had the notes for your oral presentation in it, _and_ the essay you were planning to submit.

In your flurry to leave, you'd forgotten to double check your bag, and being Monday, it was your full day on campus, so you couldn't even dash home to get it. 

So, not only would you lose ten percent for a late submission of your essay, when you'd attempted to deliver your presentation, you'd failed miserably - sure, you'd gotten the gist, but the technical details and intricately researched references had all been lost.

Both of your professors had looked at you with this expression of surprised disappointment - you didn't like to brag, but you were usually one of the top students in the class - and you really felt like you'd let them, and yourself down.

And then, just when you'd thought no more bad luck could come your way, while you'd been having a quick lunch break (and stewing in your misery), some jerk had knocked into you and you'd spilled your coffee on your favourite jeans. Luckily it hadn't been too hot, but it was just another thing to add to the pile of misfortunes this particular day had obviously decided to dump on you.

Your day had been all around rotten, but...that wasn't the _real_ reason you were upset.

Sure, your terrible day had put you in a bad mood, but if you were honest with yourself, what really had you upset was something totally different, and so, _so_ stupid.

See, Mark had been in Seattle at PAX prime since Friday,  and since he’d arrived, all you’d seen whenever you logged into Facebook or dared to have a peek at twitter was the steady stream of photos and tweets coming through about PAX, and all the pictures of him smiling and being hugged by fans. You’d gotten a few quick texts, and some dorky selfies, but nothing more personal than that. Mark had been too exhausted to call each night as per your usual tradition, and you'd tried to tell yourself you didn't miss it.

But the Thursday before he left had been the last time you'd spoken to him, and that was the last time you'd really felt like yourself.

You knew it was dumb, but it didn't change the fact that your misery stemmed from jealousy, pure and simple.

As much as you hated it, it was festering and wouldn't go away - if anything, the ridiculous insecurity had only gotten worse as the weekend had progressed. You usually didn't let yourself fall into these sorts of funks, but it was Monday now, and here you were, still wallowing.

As Saturday had turned into Sunday, and you’d found yourself browsing the ever growing multitude of ‘Markiplier’ tagged PAX photos, you hadn’t been able to deny the fact that Mark looked like he was having the time of his life. Seeing him at PAX, it was all so foreign to you, so out of your realm of everyday life, it had been impossible not to feel overwhelmed and just a little left behind.

You'd tried to take it in your stride at first - Mark had given you full warning about the enthusiasm of his fandom, and he'd been utterly honest that part of these meet ups was giving out lots of hugs, along with posing for photos and doing a whole host of goofy things during the signings. And he'd _told_ you the majority of his fans were female and could be a little...'handsy'.

It was only natural that people wanted to get up close with him. Mark was like a giant puppy – just being near him made you warm and giddy, and it was impossible not to smile. As much as he could be introverted around strangers, when fans approached him with the proper respect, he was happy to hug or pose with them when they asked.

He was such a tactile guy always touching; tight hugs, friendly back slapping, throwing a casual arm around someone's shoulder. Where was the harm in that? 

So you’d shrugged and said it was fine. You’d figured it wouldn’t be that bad...

But you’d figured wrong.

Hugs were one thing, but what some of these girls were doing went beyond 'a little handsy'...

Wanting a hug from him was one thing, but daring him to twerk, pinching his butt, screaming for him to take off his shirt or randomly grabbing him was _totally_  different!

And on top of the pictures and videos there was the seemingly endless flood of comments...'he's so bae!', 'notice me Daddy!', 'my poor ovaries', 'have my babies' and all the talk about fucking him. It had been so easy to dismiss it at first – God, some of these girls weren't even teenagers - they probably hadn't even ever kissed a boy, let alone had sex, but it still made something in you twist.

Liking and admiring Mark was only natural, but how far some of the more extreme fans took it made you feel distinctly uncomfortable. It was awful, and though he looked awkward in some of the pictures, in others, he was smiling that big, beaming grin. It was no fake smile and you weren't which scenario was worse. 

You _knew_ there wasn't anything sinister going on; Mark was just doing what he loved to do. But it was harder than you'd thought it would be to see a photo of him with a gaggle of beautiful girls who were fawning over his attention. Because...because they were there, they were with him, and they were everything you weren't.

Mark had so many incredible fans, people who were much more talented and interested in YouTube than you were. People who could maybe even help his YouTube career. You had the utmost respect for what he did, but if you were honest, you hardly even watched his videos. Even when you'd first started becoming friends, you'd stayed out of that side of his life. Other than checking out his vlogs and various sketches, you didn't really watch his video gaming stuff. 

He'd never said it bothered him, but you couldn't help but wonder...Did he _want_ someone who did? Did he _want_ you to care about going to these sorts of events with him?

He'd mentioned in passing that he could try to pull some strings and organise for you to get into PAX, but you'd just laughed and told him it wasn't really up your alley. It wasn't like you played games, or followed comics or anything like that, so you would probably have just been a little lost (not to mention bored) surrounded by people who revelled in the gamer culture.

You’d had your paper due and you wanted him to be able to hang out with his friends without any pressure to take you and keep you entertained. _"I don't think I'd really enjoy it"_ you'd told him, quickly forgetting your words as Mark moved on to talk about how excited he was about hosting his first ever panel with Wade.

He'd seemed okay when you'd declined the offer, but _was_ he?

You surely would have picked up some sort of vibe from him if he'd been upset about you not going to Seattle. But then again, you'd hadn't spoken since the Thursday night...Would you have even known?

What would it have mattered if you’d gone anyway? It wasn't like anyone knew who you were. Nobody knew you were Mark's girlfriend, and you'd have just made a scene of yourself, standing around Mark and hissing like an angry cat, looking just like one of the desperate fan girls that were making your stomach churn now.

You closed you eyes, trying to will away the burn of tears.

It would have just been weird, you hanging around, lingering awkwardly in the background not really knowing where you were supposed to be or what you were supposed to do. It was hard enough to see the pictures by proxy - you couldn't imagine what it would be like, having to watch a thousand girls molest Mark while you had to pretend you didn't care.

It was exhausting just to think about it.

It would have been easier to put a sign around his neck that said ‘sorry, he’s taken’, but that would have gone down like a lead balloon.

Despite your morose mood, that thought did coax a snort of laughter out of you.

Sighing, you sat up and winced a little at the unexpected pain in your head. You weren't even sure when your headache had started, but it was certainly there now, pressing persistently firm behind your eyes and causing a dull throb at your temples.

Forcing yourself up, you went to dig through your bag for some Advil - making sure you put your paper in so you couldn't forget it again tomorrow - and took two with a generous gulp of water.

It was tempting to just crawl into bed and sleep, but you knew you'd feel better after a shower, and your jeans could do with a soak to try and remove the (thankfully) faint coffee stain on them.

Shoes and socks already off, you padded towards your bathroom. Unzipping your jeans, you stilled for a moments, surprised when you heard your phone buzz and chime merrily with Mark’s ringtone.

Normally you would have bolted to answer it, but something sharp twisted in your stomach, and you realised you were angry at him, as completely unfair and irrational as it was.

He'd _told_ you what it would be like, and you’d told him you weren’t the jealous type. Hell, you’d _thought_ that you weren’t! You’d always been too practical for jealousy, but none of your previous relationships had prepared you for dealing with being with someone who had _thousands_ of other girls interested in them.

You could kind of see why his last girlfriend had hated it so much...

You jolted from that thought and let out a dismayed noise. You weren’t going to get petty about this sort of thing, and you sure as hell weren’t going to start fighting with him about being on YouTube or going to cons!

Mark obviously hadn’t wanted to talk about his ex with you, but it _had_ come up, and from what little he'd said, it was clear that she hadn’t liked his friends or his fans and that it had caused friction between them. Would he be angry if you admitted the way you were feeling? Would he be upset? Or, even worse, would he see this same pattern between you and his ex when it came to his fans?

You wouldn’t _ever_ ask him to stop going to conventions, and you shouldn’t be so insecure that you felt you had to dig your claws in, but it was just...hard to see him like that when you were feeling so unsure.

Still, as you heard the phone stop ringing you couldn't deny that you felt your heart sink into your toes. Ignoring his call had been petty and stupid, and it was terrible that a small part of you felt good for doing it.

Wiggling out of your jeans, you threw them in your laundry sink to soak and moved to your bathroom, quickly shucking off the rest of your clothes. Cranking the shower to hot, you sighed as you stood under the comforting spray.

You just missed Mark so much...His arms should have been around _you_ _!_

The weight of the day suddenly seemed to press on you from nowhere and you felt a few bitter tears leak down your cheeks. Normally you weren't so dramatic, but today had been utterly awful, and you didn’t want to hold back...

So you didn’t.

It felt so _good_ to let it all bleed out, to release the bitter frustration and resentment and fear that had been brewing inside you all weekend, and to acknowledge the ache that missing him left in your chest.

It was cathartic and satisfying and exactly what you needed, so you stood under the warm spray and let yourself cry until you had no more tears left and the water ran cold.

* * *

Even if it didn't solve the problem, having a good, hard, cry always made you feel a bit better. It certainly hadn't helped your headache, but it did clear your thoughts a little.

It wasn't fair to be angry with Mark - he was attractive and sweet and genuine so _of course_ people wanted to be near him. He really was the 'whole package' kind of guy, and what pulled you to him was what drew so many in.

He was important to so many people, especially young girls. Your teenage years were when you were most vulnerable and felt the least sure about yourself. Having someone - _anyone_ \- be a kind, positive voice was a huge reassurance. And Mark was an inspiring guy. He'd been through such hard times, but he's persevered and worked so hard to get to where he was.

It was only natural that his fan loved him, and yes, some of them did take it too far. So it was only human for you to feel jealous and a little afraid, but you _trusted_ Mark. It was totally normal to be envious that anyone was getting to spend time with him when you hadn’t seen him in so long.

And maybe it was impossible to deny that some of his female fans were beautiful, but you'd never forget the way his eyes had lit up when he'd seen you at the wedding, or the way he smiled at you when he saw you on Skype. He always sounded so happy too, when he'd speak to you after a long day of recording, and he'd send you sweet little text messages that made your heart beat fast.

His fans knew Markiplier, they had his public persona, but you were one of the people who was lucky enough to be his friend and get to know _Mark_. That was special, and _that_ was yours. No amount of flirtatious photos could change that. He wasn’t going to run off with some fan girl just because she batted her lashes and said she watched his videos.

Towelling off your hair, you changed into your pyjamas then went out to grab your phone. You'd expected the notification for the missed call from Mark, but there was also a text.

_Hey, not sure if you're asleep - Love to talk if you can :D if not, sleep well xo_

You smiled, feeling that now familiar little flutter in your chest. So what if he had cute girls falling all over him? _You_ were still the one he wanted to call before he fell asleep. You were sure he was totally exhausted, but he’d made the effort, and _that_ mattered.

 _Hey sorry I missed your call. You still up?_ You fired off the text, and before you even had a chance to put your phone down, it started ringing in your hand.

Swiping your finger across the screen, you headed back down your hallway to your bedroom and settled onto your bed.

“Hey.” You said softly, wincing at the little hitch when you spoke. Your voice was still a little cloggy-hopefully he wouldn't be able to hear you'd been crying.

“ _Hey beautiful, how are you?_ ” The warmth of his voice eased a little of the ache in your chest. Like you'd thought, he sounded tired, but happy.

“I’m...okay.” You said, and it wasn’t totally a lie. “How about you? How’s PAX been?”

He perked up instantly. “ _Oh man, you have no idea! It’s been totally incredible! The panel was amazing! Wade and I had such a blast! And the amount of stuff people have given me! I’m gonna need to get it all shipped back to LA, it won’t fit in my case! And all these people...T_ _hey came to meet me! People stood in line for hours! I mean..._ ” He paused to catch his breath, “ _I’m just some guy, but people wanna come and spend hours in line to see me? It’s crazy._ ”

“You are more than just ‘some guy’ and you know it.” You tutted fondly, unable to stop your grin “I’m glad you’ve been having a great time.”

“ _It’s been AWESOME!_ ” His voice lifted with his enthusiasm, and you settled back on your pillows to curl your feet under your blankets. “ _I can’t wait until next time, because we’ve already arranged to have Bob here too!_ ”

“That sounds great.” You really tried to sound encouraging, but you must have done a pretty bad job because Mark stopped, his voice turning concerned.

“ _Hey, are you okay?_ "

You paused, then shook your head even though Mark couldn’t see the gesture. “I have a bit of a headache, and I've had a pretty terrible day.” You confessed with a quite sigh.

“ _Oh no, how come?_ ” he sounded distraught.

“A little bit of everything, really...” So you regaled him with how terrible your day had been, though you left out the pangs of jealousy you’d been swallowing down the whole weekend.

After he’d listened, he blew out a sigh of his own. “ _Wow, that really does suck. But the day is over now, and I’m sure things will pick up, yeah?_ ”

“Yeah, it’s just a bummer and I miss you like crazy which doesn’t help.” You admitted, running your fingers through your still damp hair. It was as much as you were willing to concede – you didn’t want to spoil things.

“ _I know, I miss you too. We’ll sort something out soon, don’t worry._ ” You believed the reassurance firm in his voice. “ _You’ll have a better day tomorrow, for sure._ ”

You made a non-committal noise and Mark rumbled a laugh. “ _Trust me, tomorrow will be better. You don’t have to go to campus, right?_ ”

“I have to drop my essay in so that I don’t lose twenty percent of my grade, but other than that, no. I have an afternoon lecture on Tuesdays, but I usually skip that.” You said sheepishly. “I can listen to it online, but if I’m going on campus, I probably should hang around.”

“ _No, skip it._ ” Mark urged. “ _Drop your paper in first thing, then go home and spend the day chilling out. Relax, de-stress._ _You deserve it after such a bad day today,"_

“Well, only if you'll let me.” You teased.

“ _I give you permission to have a disgustingly lazy day tomorrow._ ” His goofy chuckle curled into your ear again and it made your stomach flip. You could imagine his expression, the way his eyes crinkled at the corner as his whole face lit up when we was happy.

You toyed with the corners of your blanket and tried to smother your grin. “So, what time do you fly out again?”

“ _Eight thirty. I’m already packed because I know I’m not gonna get up super early._ ”

You laughed, but it was stifled by your yawn. “It is late. We should both get to bed.”

“ _Yeah,_ ” He agreed reluctantly, “ _and I need to have a shower before I got to sleep. I just...really wanted to talk to you. This is the longest we’ve gone without talking to one another. I missed your voice._ ” Mark couldn’t see you, but you felt your cheeks heat.

“You are way too sweet sometimes.”

“ _I do try._ ” He drawled, putting on his false macho voice. “ _Gotta keep my lady happy._ ”

You snorted before you could help yourself. “Well, you do a good job. But it’s late and we should sleep.” You got up to turn off your light and lay back on your bed. Dropping the silliness you sighed into your phone. “I love you.”

“ _I love you too. Sleep well. And remember, relaxing at home all day tomorrow!_ ”

“I will. Fly safe, Mark. Call me when you land, okay?”

“ _Will do. G’night_.”

Ending the call, you rolled onto your back. You probably should have said something to him about how upset you were before, but part of you was glad you hadn’t. You had no reason to be jealous. You needed to organise a visit with him, soon hopefully. You were positive the main reason you were so upset was because you hadn’t seen him in person in so long.

You wanted to sink into his embrace, or run your fingers through his hair, feel his delectable lips on yours as his hands gripped your hips. You'd only had that one night, but you wanted so many more - every time you talked, all you could think of was how much you wanted to feel his arms around you again. Despite your earlier yawn, you found you weren't as sleepy as you had been before. Thinking about Mark like _that_ had rather suddenly superseded your tiredness...

You didn’t know when you’d see Mark next, but that didn’t mean that you couldn’t have a little release, or let your imagination pretend that Mark was there with you, and that it was Mark’s fingers touching you. What the hell, why not? You'd had a bad day, so you could at least do something to make yourself feel a little better, right?

Biting your lip, you closed your eyes and pictured his handsome face. Pushing your pyjama pants down, you opened your bedside drawer and pulled out your little bottle of lubricant. Smearing some on your fingers, you settled back and let yourself relax. Starting with slow, gentle pressure you began to massage your clitoris, sighing into the tingling sensation and wishing Mark was laying beside you. Mark had never been to your place before, but you liked the idea of christening your bed together, or oh, even better, your shower.

You moaned softly as you slid a finger inside yourself. Shower sex. Yes please. Sure, it was tame - you were pretty vanilla when it came to that kind of thing, but sex in the shower was a guilty pleasure of yours.

The hot spray, the angle of penetration, and the crush of another body pinning you to the tiles, it never failed turn you on. It wasn't something that was everyone's flavour, but if you were smart and careful about it, and with someone well-built enough, (which Mark most _certainly_ was), then it was amazing.

The two of you had showered together post-sex on the glorious night (well, technically morning) you’d come together after Mandy and Bob’s wedding, but all you'd done was kiss and touch and giggle like idiots, too caught up in the ‘we just had sex’ giddiness to doing anything more serious.

You sighed, remembering how wonderful his hands had felt as they had scrubbed across your back and massaged shampoo into your hair. You hadn't missed the opportunity to appreciate his body either, lathering body wash across his sculpted chest and chasing your fingers down the long line of his scar.

It would be so wonderful when that teasing went further. You could imagine how good it would feel with Mark lifting you, pressing into you, your arms around his neck, head tilted back as water tumbled down and the steam curled up.

You wished you could feel his hands gripping you now, the hot pulse of his cock as he pounded into you...

A soft moan simpered past your lips as you thought about his delectable body. 

Who cared if he was a bit shorter than other guys? He was still a good four inches taller than you, and beside that, he was solid, thick in all the right places. You could lose yourself in the play of his muscles - sometimes it was almost worrying how the simple act of him even jokingly flexing, or moving to lift something would make your insides flutter and your heart speed up. You'd never really been interested in gym junky guys or anything like that, but there was something about Mark that was so alluring.

Your internal muscles clenched and fluttered unconsciously, your hips rocking up a little as your fingers began to move faster. Breath hitching up, you added a second finger, your natural wetness mingling with the lubricant, making the slide easier. Your fingers weren't as big as his were, and somehow never as warm-it wasn't the same as feeling Mark inside you, but it was still better than nothing.

Swallowing your moan, you wondered if Mark was doing the same thing your were. He _had_ said he needed to have a shower after all... Well, it was your fantasy, so yes, in your mind, Mark was masturbating right now, thinking of you like you were thinking of him.

You imagined him standing in his fancy hotel shower, water rippling down his back, head tilted down, black hair plastered flat from the spray, his eyes screwed up in concentration. One of his hands would be bracing against the shower wall as he pleasured himself.

You'd never watched him touch himself, (you wondered if he'd be comfortable with that), and you’d only had sex that one time, but you had a fair idea now of how he would look, how he would _sound_ , as he worked his hand over that perfect cock.

He'd move slowly at first, mellow and methodical, up and down his shaft, then, occasionally stutter at the head, paying it special attention, swiping across the pearly fluid building there. He'd torture himself, just a little, getting close to climaxing, then pull back - deliberately pausing his motions, milking the intensity to try and make the feelings last.

But then he'd push it just a little too far, past the point of no return where all sense would leave him and the promise of orgasm really set in. You could _see_ him, how his head would tilt back as the pull of it took him over. His erection would be aching, red and throbbing in his clenched fist, weeping and desperate for release. You imagined his deep moans reverberating off the bathroom walls, little strangled grunts slipping past parted lips as his body trembled and he came _hard_.

White heat curled in your pelvis and you made a needy little noise. Gasping as tingles skittered down your spine and to your toes, you rocked your hand furiously.

Goddamn, the unrestrained want this man made you feel was insane!

You were desperate to see him, to touch and taste and _feel_ him again.

Oh, _God_.

A few more thrusts of your slick fingers and suddenly, warm bliss lurched through you, your back arching off your bed and all you could feel for a few glorious seconds was the wonderful delight of orgasm melting into your veins. Legs trembling, you lay in those few heavenly moments before you caught your breath and waited for your heart to stop thundering so erratically in your chest.

Jesus, you _needed_ to see him again, and soon.

Still a little breathless, you forced yourself up to wash your hands. Heavy and hazy from that post orgasm glow, you were disgustingly content. Looking in your little bathroom mirror, your cheeks were flushed and your hair looked like a birds nest, but you at least felt a little better than what you had before.

The jealousy and the upset was still lingering there, but with the idea of Mark naked in the shower currently burning in the forefront of your mind, it was pretty hard to be too unhappy. Washing off your face, you decided that tomorrow, after you’d submitted your paper on campus and once you were home, you were going to sit and figure out when you could fly out to L.A.

It needed to happen, and it needed happen _soon_. You missed him, and it wasn't fair that you had to be so far apart. Plus, if the reality of the shower fantasy was even half as good your imagination made it out to be, that needed to happen soon too.

* * *

There had been no sleep in for you the next morning; you'd woken up bright and early as per usual. It had been nice to have your usual comfortable routine and not feel rushed. That said, you'd not dallied - your essay was burning a metaphorical hole in your bag, so your trip to campus was absolutely your first priority. 

The moment it was all done, you'd felt much better. It wasn’t as if it was a heavily weighted assessment, but it was still disappointing to know you’d automatically lost part marks for late submission. Still, you could deal with the outcome later. It wasn’t like you were going to fail, it was more that you weren’t going to do as well as usual. That was a bummer but all you could do was make sure it didn't happen again.

Walking out of the campus building you were surprised by the chill. There had been a spate of warmer days, but September in Chicago could sometimes get a little on the cold side. The fall breeze wasn't too bad, but it was cool enough that you were glad you'd brought your jacket. Pulling it on and zipping up your hoodie, you slung your bag on your back and checked your watch.

A little smile ghosted across your lips, thinking about Mark's directive to have a lazy day at home. You could surely make _one_ pit stop before you headed home. The Book Cellar wasn't far, and a mug of their famous hot caramel cider was just the thing for a wintery day like this.

You checked your phone before you even though consciously about it - nowadays it was instinct - but as soon as you looked, you remembered that Mark was flying and wouldn't have been able to text you. Your smile dropped away and you sighed, tucking your phone away before you started to make your way towards your destination.

This whole thing with PAX had really thrown you for a loop. It was so unlike you to get this way. Normally drama sailed over your head...You didn't like being involved in it, and you certainly didn't want to be the one _causing_ it. Mark had called you last night and you'd felt better, but now that uncertainty was creeping back. It was so weird, to be stressing about a guy again.

After your last break-up, you'd sat and had a good hard think about your future, and you'd been so sure that it hadn't involved a relationship until _after_ you'd finished your four year physical therapy degree.

After splitting up with Jonathan, the plan had always been to stay in Chicago, find work practising somewhere - hopefully where you were currently just working as a receptionist - _then_ do the whole 'meet a nice guy and settle down to live happily ever after' thing.

Your grades could take you anywhere, but Chicago was _home_. You'd never really even thought about going anywhere else.

Until now.

Until Mark had just...strolled into your life and into your heart, so naturally, like he'd always known you, like he'd always been there. It was equal parts wonderful and terrifying. You'd known him less than a year, yet it already felt like you'd been friends for so much longer.

As much as you kept trying to tell yourself it was way too early to think about it,  your mind did occasionally wander to the thought of what you were going to do, and somewhere along the way, the idea of moving to L.A. had somehow plopped itself on the table as a very tempting possibility. 

It didn't even have to be moving in with him (because it was definitely _waaaaay_ too soon to be thinking that), but you could find your own apartment. 

How nice would it be, to decide to wander over to his place, or meet for coffee, then just be able to get into your car and go see him, as if it was no big deal?

You wanted that.

You wanted that so badly, and the fact that you hadn't even been able to organise even _one_ flight to visit him in the last few months had only added fuel to the fire.

But you had been a little afraid to say anything to him...You didn't want to come off as being too clingy or freak him out since you'd only 'officially' been together a few months.

Plus you honestly didn't know how he'd react to the idea. Surely he'd like having you closer? But would he feel like you were trying to move things too quickly? He was a pretty independent guy, and it hadn't ended well with the last girl he'd lived with...

At least you had a little while to think - your lease wasn't up until April next year, but at the same time, you really didn't want to find yourself in position where you were suddenly without a roof over your head.

You couldn't leave something so important until the last minute. You'd tentatively looked into rentals in L.A., but you hadn't gone much further than that. It would be such a big undertaking; aside from getting an apartment, you'd need to find a job, look into transferring your degree, look into future employment opportunities - and you'd never even been to L.A. What if you hated it?

Then there was your parents, and the Homewood clinic where you worked. Could you really leave that behind you? Chicago was safe and familiar, but it felt so far from Mark sometimes.

Was that a enough reason to shift your whole life though?

You were so lost in thought you walked right past the Book Cellar - you got a whole block beyond it before you realised and quickly backtracked.

When you finally did walk in, you tried to leave your thoughts behind.

You been here a million times, but it always made you happy. You were such a nerd for bookshops and this was the absolute best. There were loads of them in Chicago, but nothing else was quite like it.

The Cellar was bright and airy, but the best thing (aside from the impressive array of books and the book adoring staff), was the smell of baking that hit you when you walked it. It made it feel homey, and more like a cozy cafe than a store.

Tall black shelves were lined with meticulously organised books (both new and pre-loved) and the friendly ladies behind the counters always piped up with cheery 'hello's over the quite murmur of the other customers. Little paper tabs with 'Good Read' recommendations were dotted sporadically across the shelves, all with pithy reviews that never failed to make you laugh.

You'd discovered it by chance one day, and it was one of your favourite places to go when you wanted some time to yourself as well as a good  book.

Walking past coffee machines, the smell of cinnamon almost lured you, but you decided you wanted to peruse the shelves first - you'd get your drink to go and head back home. Some days you liked to just come and sit and read for hours, but today you really wanted to look into booking those flights.

Automatically heading straight to the fiction section, you looked for the top ten and the staff recommendations. They were normally pretty on par with the sort of books you liked to read, so they were usually a pretty good place to start. _The Girl With All the Gifts_ was the current book of the month, and you flipped it over to read the blurb.

Interest piqued, you decided to grab it. You hadn't heard anything about it, but it sounded fascinating enough. You were a sucker for a well written apocalypse any day of the week. You prowled the shelves and picked up a few more books, but ultimately decided to just get the one.

You weren't struggling to get by or anything, but you were trying to save as much as possible and you usually lived pretty lean. Besides, you were rapidly running out of room for books - your bookshelves were already double stacked as it was just because you couldn't help yourself.

Putting your book on the counter, you smiled at the cashier and ordered your drink. 

Casting a quick glance at your watch, you were surprised that it was already nearly eleven, but then again, it wasn't really  _that_ unusual.

Your mom did always tease you that you could never take a short trip in a bookshop. Some girls could shop for hours for shoes or clothes, but books were your addiction. 

Thinking of your mom...You really needed to call her. You hadn't spoken since last week which was odd for you. You probably needed to get your head around this Mark thing first though - you and your mom had always been close, and you couldn't hide anything from her. She'd hear the trouble in your voice from the second you said 'hello'. She always could. But once you'd locked in a time to see him, you were sure you'd feel better, and things wouldn't feel so confusing.

Thanking the woman that served you once you'd paid for your book, you left the Cellar and took a sip of your cider. It warmed you all the way through and you hummed with satisfaction. It was the simple things, and no matter how you felt, at least they could still make you smile.

* * *

Your train trip was always just a little over twenty minutes, so you'd figured you may as well start reading your book. It was a great plan, until you got so engrossed in it you missed your stop. Luckily, you'd only gone two stations past, but you still felt like a dork. It wasn't the first time, and it probably wouldn't be the last time either, so you tucked your book into your bag when you re-boarded, just to be safe.

With your train goof you were home later than expected, but it didn't really matter since your plan for the day had been to chill out and do nothing.

Well, except try to book those flights, and now was a good a time as any. By the time you'd looked everything up, Mark would be landing and you could speak to him about what would work out best when he called you. 

Dumping your bag down, you opened your laptop, pressed the button to turn it on, and waited the eternity for it to load. It would have been faster on your phone, but your laptop was hooked up to your printer. Your poor lappy was nearly six years old and understandably slow. If you were honest with yourself, it was in desperate need of replacing, but while it was still working, you hadn’t worried about it.

Mark had been dismayed at the sight of it, and even more horrified when you'd relayed the specs on it. He'd instantly offered to buy you a new one, but you'd firmly declined. He'd even jokingly tried to scare you with stories about harddrive failure, but you kept everything on an external USB, plus an extra backup, so it wouldn’t matter when your ‘paperweight with a processor’ as Mark called it, died.

When it did finally fizzle out, you'd buy a new one yourself. You didn't want him to buy you anything. Mark had shaken his head and cursed your stubbornness, but let the subject go. It wasn’t like you needed it for high-end gaming like him. All you did was assignments, Netflix, Skype and Facebook. The laptop worked, and that was all that mattered. It wasn’t even that bad, it was just that for someone like Mark, using something that old was anathema – computers were the one thing he dropped serious money on, and being both his livelihood and his main hobby, you couldn’t really blame him for being a little...affronted that you were living several generations behind.

Sighing as your browser finally opened - then stuttered - you wondered if maybe it actually was time to admit defeat. It threatened to crash, but after a moment, it did what it was told.

Flipping open your desk diary, you started to scan through your year planner. You’d marked the usual important dates like Christmas and birthdays, but you’d also filled in when you had your exams, when you were on your practical assessment, and when Mark would be at conventions or unavailable. It was a tad depressing to see how little free time you had when you looked at your life this way, but you pushed the thought aside.

It was more important to find the times that you could have together than lamenting the ones you couldn’t.

It looked like maybe the twenty eighth of September could potentially work...

Suddenly, a sharp knock at your door startled you, and you looked up, puzzled.

You weren’t expecting any deliveries and you very rarely had visitors. You always went to see your mom and dad, and you didn't tend to entertain friends since your place was so small.

It must have been one of your neighbours.

Curious, you went to your door and opened it.

But it wasn't a neighbour...

It was _Mark_.

You stared, stunned, brain halting abruptly.

There he was, in all his buff, floofy, glory, leaning casually on your door frame like he hadn't just shown up out of nowhere, suitcase at his side and his bag slung over his shoulder.

"Gee, I seem to have gotten lost...Miss, do you think you can help me?" Mark asked innocently, grinning like the cat that had gotten the cream _and_ the canary.

Your mouth flopped open as your brain tried to catch up with how rapidly your thoughts had been derailed.

“What?” Was all you could think to say.

“It's a surprise!” He laughed, “I told you today would be better, right?”

"What?" You blurted again.

"I'm so glad I kept this quiet." His grin widened. "I _knew_ the look on your face would be worth it."

The cogs in your brain finally started turning again and you felt your lips stretching into an enormous smile.

"And was it?" you asked dimly, finally able to manage something slightly more coherent.

"Totally." He snorted. He shifted on his feet and gave you a wink. "Soooooo....Can I come in?"

“Oh my God, of course! Sorry, sorry.” You ushered him inside, suddenly giddy as the fact that Mark was _there_ in your living room caught up with your struggling brain.

You let him turn around and close your front door, but the second he'd put his bag down, you threw yourself at him.

"Whoa, steady on there!" He staggered back and instantly wrapped his thick arms around you, huffing out a pleased laugh.

You shook your head, and nuzzled into his chest. "Nope, sorry." You moved to kiss up his neck as you breathed in the scent of him. "Please don't take this the wrong way, but what are you doing here?" Maybe it was weird, but you always thought he smelled amazing.

"I’ve been planning this the whole time. You have no idea how hard it was to keep it from you. I was bursting to tell you yesterday when you told me you’d had such a bad day, but I didn’t want to ruin the surprise.”

"I’m glad you didn’t." You murmured, pulling back from his neck so you could press your lips to his.

Kissing him was still thrilling, and you couldn’t help but sigh happily as the stubble above his lip scratched at your skin. You closed your eyes when his tongue brushed yours playfully and you slid your hands under his blue flannel shirt - you were sure it wasn't an accident that it was the one you'd given him for his birthday.

His skin was warm and wonderful-you let your fingers play across the muscles of his back as you worked on re-memorising his mouth.

He was such a good kisser. Dominant without being overly aggressive, you wondered who'd taught him the way to curl his tongue _just_ right, but you decided you didn't care as long as you benefited from it. Humming into his mouth, you got daring and pressed your body against his, not surprised to find the beginnings of an erection.

He made a strangled noise and broke away from the kiss, panting a little. "Hey, there'll be time for that later." He murmured softly. Eyes closed, trying to regain his composure, he touched his forehead to yours – it was something he seemed to like to do, and it gave you ridiculous butterflies – and you both sighed softly.

“While I _would_ have liked to know you were coming so I could've cleaned up and gotten a few things ready,” You said, slightly chastising as you brushed your fingers tenderly along his stubbly cheek, “the surprise was so nice, I forgive you.”

His grin was only a little strained when he opened his eyes. “Good. I was hoping you'd be happy."

"I'm ecstatic." You said, without hesitation. "I was actually just looking up flights to see when I could come visit you.”

“On your old housebrick?” He couldn't keep the disdain out of his voice and you gave him a little shove.

"Hey, it still does it's job!"

"Barely." Mark snorted, but you chose to ignore it.

“Well, we can argue about that later." You paused and looked around thoughtfully. "I suppose I should give you the not so ‘grand tour', right?”

You'd told Mark on more than one occasion about how small your place was, and how rapidly you were running out of space. It was sort of a running joke.

“I’m sure it’s great.” Mark said instantly, and you couldn't help but laugh.

“I know I've never been to your place, but I’ve seen enough of it when we’re Skyping to know it’s much bigger than mine.” You shrugged, “but this is home, and I like it well enough. So,” you gestured around where you were standing. “Lounge and dining area.”

The walls were a soft cream and the carpets were a practical dark blue. There wasn't a lot in your lounge since there wasn't the space - just a plush blue two seater couch (complete with adorable scatter cushions), a coffee table that held your TV, and the two tall bookshelves that were bursting with books. What you called your 'dining area' was really just a part of the lounge room where you'd put a four seater dining table, and you'd crammed your study desk in the corner.

Grabbing Mark's hand, you dragged him around the corner wall and pointed. “Kitchen.” The tiles, bench and cupboards were all slate grey, and there was a small sink and four burner stove. Your kitchen gadgets took up most of your bench space, but you still had just enough room to cook. Your fridge was probably a little over extravagant for just one person, but it had been an absolute steal at a Christmas sale, and you liked the extra room it gave you if you ever did any baking. You were a little embarrassed about the dishes in the sink though, so you quickly pulled him through the tiny hallway.

Tugging him along, you pointed into what you called your spare room. The double bed you'd crammed in there barely fit, and it meant there wasn't room for anything else, but on the few occasions you'd had people stay the night, it had been nice to have a place to put them. Mark poked his head in, but didn’t say anything as you ushered him along.

“Here’s the bathroom and toilet, and the laundry next to it. And lastly, my bedroom.” You pulled him into your room and flicked your light on. Your room was still pretty pokey, but thankfully it was at least a little bigger guest bedroom. You could at least fit your queen sized bed and bed-head and your two sets of drawers (though anything else would have been a squeeze).

Three of the walls were the same cream colour as the rest of the house, but the fourth one was a soft robins egg blue, and the carpet was shaggier and more plush to walk on than what was in the rest of the house. The en suite bathroom was a nice touch too, thought you dreamed of the day you could have a larger shower, or god forbid, a bathtub.

Thankfully your bedroom wasn’t too badly in disarray - you did have some clothes flung haphazardly across your bed, and the floors probably could have done with a vacuum, but you figured he wouldn't care. It wasn't like he'd never seen a bra and panties before, and he _had_ sprung the visit on you. He could deal with it.

“Grand tour over.” You grinned at him, looking at his expression. He was looking around hesitantly, and you could tell he was dying to say it. You let out an exaggerated sigh and grinned. “It’s okay. You can say it.”

“It really _is_ tiny!” He exclaimed, giving his head a bemused shake. “Sorry, but _wow!_ I didn’t think it’d be this small.”

“Yeah, I know. We can't all be internet celebrities.” You groused, not really offended. “You know, you can always book a hotel if you want. I'm sure their rooms are _much_ bigger."

“Nah, it's cozy here,” Mark said, dropping his voice deeper as he came to stand in front of you and pulled you into his chest. "Besides," he walked you back until your legs bumped against your bed, and you let out an inelegant shriek when you fell back. The instant you had your bearings, he was above you, eyes intense, knees pressing either side of you and dipping the bed with his weight. He leaned down so you were almost nose to nose. “I didn’t come to Chicago to stay in a hotel.”

“Oh?” You said faintly, suddenly disoriented and breathless as your heart started to race. “Well, I do have a _very_ nice spare room."

“Oh, I just saw,” he purred, “the feature bed is great, but I’m far more interested in what's in _here_.”

You couldn’t help but laugh. He was much smoother than he gave himself credit for. He’d been in your house all of twenty minutes and he had already gotten you into - well, technically onto - your bed.

“What happened to _later_ huh?” You teased lightly. Gently, you shifted your knee against his crotch and thrilled in the moan that spilled from his lips. You could feel the promise of his erection through his jeans, rekindled from before. He didn't ask you to pull back this time.

“It technically _is_ later. Just...not as 'later' as I thought.” He growled as he ran his hands down your raised knee. "I just couldn't resist."

This was wonderful - you could already feel yourself getting wet in response to the position he had you in, but you couldn't help but think (and curse yourself for it), that if he was already trying to get into your pants, he obviously wasn't staying long...

“Not that I’m not enjoying myself, but you’re normally a little more romantic than this.” You ran your fingers along one of his arms and he let go of your knee so you could lower your leg. Your eyes met his behind his glasses. “You aren’t here for long, are you?”

He grimaced a little and shook his head, though he didn't pull back.

“I fly back to Los Angeles tomorrow morning. I'm sorry it's only such a short stop.”

Damn.

Only tonight then.

Well, it was better than nothing, and you sure as hell weren’t going to complain. You were thrilled at his surprise visit, and at least you could talk to him in person about a visit to L.A. now.

Well, right after you were finished with your current, much more _pressing_ matters...

Smiling at him, you wrapped your fingers around his neck and pulled him close. “Well, I'm just glad you're here at all."

His smile was soft, but his eyes were heated when he slid his fingers beneath your shirt and began to work it off your body.

“Me too.”

* * *

Naked, condom on, and lubricant liberally applied, the promise you’d made to yourself to take things slow the next time you had sex had dissolved the instant Mark slid inside you, thick and perfect, and so, _so_ much better than just your fingers.

Unlike your last encounter, foreplay hadn’t been at the fore front – he’d coaxed two digits inside you, teasing until you felt loose enough that he wouldn’t hurt you, then slammed into you in a way you would almost call brutal if it hadn’t felt so damn amazing.

God, you just wanted to stay like this forever; on your back, Mark above you, connected in the most intimate way, feeling like nothing else in the world mattered but this.

When he pulled back and rocked into you, his movement gentler this time, he made a noise so deep it sounded like it came from the tips of his toes, and you shuddered at the low pitch. His voice did _terrible_ things to you, and you couldn't ever get enough of it.

He was shaking, you realised, as your hand reached up to brush his muscled shoulder. Glasses off, eyes jammed shut, he dipped his head down, swallowing hard. He looked just like you'd imagined him the other night and you felt an involuntary pulse from your core. He moaned again, erection throbbing, as if an answer to the flood of wetness.

“Oh God, it’s been way too long,” he choked, “and shit, you’re so tight. I keep forgetting how _good_ this actually feels.”

A throaty chuckle and a shift in your hips was your only response.

He wasn't the only one enjoying themselves.

It took him a few seconds, but when he opened his eyes, he looked at you with such utter wanton desperation, you blinked in shock. Wordlessly he grabbed your hips roughly, squeezing a surprised huff of pleasure from you. “I can’t-I haven’t- _please_.” He groaned, begging as his hips began to rock ever-so-slightly. “I haven't had an orgasm in nearly a week and you feel so fucking good I-”

That surprised you. No wonder he was shaking, he really _was_ desperate. Well, your masturbating in the shower idea had fizzled, but you could hardly feel too upset.

“With the con and trying to get everything ready-and being out late and not wanting to jerk off when I was sharing a room with Wade-I just haven’t and I need-” He babbled. “I _need_ you.”

He was looking at you like you were a glass of water and he was a man dying of thirst, and you felt your heart stutter. It was flattering that you could elicit that sort of reaction in him, that he wanted you that badly, that he _needed_ you so badly.

So yeah, you could go slow another time.

“Go for it.” You commanded as you canted your hips up again and gripped his arms. “Hard and fast.”

Slow, romantic and teasing was wonderful, but there wasn't anything wrong with the occasional quickie bout of quick-fire, spine tingling sex.

An almost delirious laugh bubbled past his lips, but before you could call him on it, he’d started thrusting, _hard_. For a moment you didn’t even try to match the jerky stutter of his movements, you just let him slam into you and set the relentless pace, your appreciative groans and grasping fingers coaxing him to keep going.

He was strong, pushing you into the mattress as he fucked you with everything he had. All you could do was cling to his back and gasp in delighted surprise. Mashing your head into your pillow, you arched up as much as you could, your body thrumming with arousal. You never wanted this to stop, but you could feel he was already getting close, his pace picking up, movements becoming more urgent. You were sure his fingers were leaving indents in your hips, but you didn't care. You were undoubtedly doing the same to his back. He was gripping you like he was afraid you'd vanish, grunts and moans mingling into loud, longing noises.

The first time, he'd been so gentle and it had felt so good, but _holy shit_ , this felt amazing too. You hadn't even realised you'd closed your eyes until he stopped and you had to open them to look at him.

His muscles were tensed, and he was breathing heavily through his nose. Sweat was starting to sheen across his shoulders and the look he was giving you was so strange, you wondered whether something was wrong.

“Mark, wha- _ohmgod!_ ” You started to ask, but all other thoughts went out the window when he _lifted you_.

His arms had slid beneath you, coaxing you up so you were basically sitting in his lap with your legs spread helplessly around his hips. The motion was utterly disorienting, though you didn't have long to dwell on it because you were too busy _wailing_ as the unexpected lift pushed his dick deep inside you, making your whole lower body spasm with delight.

Your arms flopped around his neck, and his hands splayed across your hips, both guiding you and holding you in place. Your thighs were already starting to ache a little, but Holy Mother of Christ, you'd never felt _anything_ like this before.

You couldn't have stopped the noises you were making if you'd tried (thank God your neighbours worked nine to five jobs).

It felt so amazing. 

You never wanted him to stop, but poor Mark had held on for so long, and with the new position, the new angle pushing him so deep, it was just too much. It only took three more exhausted thrusts before he threw his head back and groaned, trembling as his orgasm rocked through him.

“Oh my _God_.” His hips hitched just so, ratcheting up, milking the last of the sensation.

Utterly still for a moment, he rested his sweaty forhead on your bare shoulder and tried to catch his breath. “Thank you.” He sighed, relieved.

You felt him soften inside you and he lowered you onto the bed  then shuffled back so you could close your legs. There was a little sting in your muscles, but you'd more than happily put up with a little soreness if there was the promise of sex like _that_ as the reward.

He stood, taking a moment to steady himself, and looked at you sprawled on your bed. “You're so amazing, you know that?” He said, voice soft with reverence.

“ _I'm_ the amazing one?” You asked incredulously, still a little stunned. “My God, that was _intense_.”

Sitting up, you watched as he ran his fingers through his hair then pulled the used condom off and tied it, making a little face as he did.

“Sorry, I'll just get rid of this and then I'll be back in a sec.” His cheeks were flushed, but he was smiling.

It wasn't the most romantic post sex ritual, but you were honestly glad you didn't have to fight with him to get him to wear protection - just more proof that Mark wasn't as jerk like some of your exes had been about that sort of thing.

Rolling onto your side, you tried to ignore the burn between your thighs - the sex had felt _fantastic_ , but despite how good it had been, you hadn't climaxed. You wished you were one of these girls that seemed to be able to orgasm at a click of your fingers, but you had always taken a little more to get going. The first time you'd had sex, there'd been quite a bit more foreplay and well...you'd both had a pretty mutual dry spell, so it had (literally) come a little easier.

If only Mark had been able to keep going a little more, especially in that position. And that fact that he'd lifted you. Dear God, so fucking _hot_...

It didn't matter though, you weren't going to complain.

When Mark flopped back on the bed, you rolled toward him instantly, curling so your back was against his bare chest. He shifted so you were both on your side, and he pulled you close, pinning you to his body. You thought you were just going to lay and cuddle, but his hand only rested on curve of your hip for a few seconds before it crept lower...

Startled, you cocked your head as much as you could. “Mark?”

“You didn't finish.” He said matter-of-factly, as his fingers began to trace just above your belly button. “And never let it be said that Mark Fischbach isn't a giver in bed.”

You blurted a laugh. “It's okay Mark, I don't mind. Sometimes it's...different for women. We don't tend to come as easily as guys can.”

“I know that,” he purred, “but orgasm is sort of the point of sex, and I feel a little selfish. Unless...” His fingers stilled. “Unless you aren't comfortable with this.”

“No, it's fine. I'm more than comfortable.” You sighed as his fingers started stroking again. “I just didn't want to make a fuss about it. Some guys take it as an insult to their masculinity or some other stupid crap like that and - oh! _Oh!_ ”

And just like that, it didn't matter what 'some other guys' did or thought, because Mark's fingers were inside of you, equal parts determined and dexterous, wanting to bring you all the pleasure that he possibly could.

Mark's mouth latched onto your neck and he sucked gently, his fingers rapidly became slippery as the sparks from earlier began to reignite and your walls began to throb. Laying your head back on his shoulder, you breathed out a delighted sigh.

Well, thank heavens for men who were givers in bed...

* * *

“You know,” you sighed as you lay on Mark's shoulder and stared at nothing, now sated and fuzzy with contentment after he had _more_ than proven his words. “I _did_ mean it when I said that it didn't matter I didn't orgasm but...this is so much better.”

Mark chuckled, his hand stroking at your hip. “I thought you might see my point of view.”

You grinned and nuzzled into him. “Did I mention I'm  _really_ happy you're here?”

“It may have _come up._ ”

“Oh my _God_ ,” you jabbed lightly at his stomach and stared at him with as much disdain as you could muster. "Mark...Was that a sex pun?"

"I just-" He started to answer, but then his expression contorted in horror as he looked at you, "Holy shit, I'm becoming Wade!"

You couldn't help yourself - you started to giggle uncontrollably at the genuine distress on his face.

"We _never_ speak of this." Mark said, deadly serious.

"Don't worry," you snorted, "I don't think my 'post sex conversations with Markiplier' are exactly polite conversation material."

"Good! Wade would never let me live it down." Mark relaxed again.

You snuggled back into him again for a few minutes before you sighed. "We really should get up. It's way too early to be in bed." Kissing his cheek, you rolled off him. "C'mon, lets have showers and then we can look at booking me some flights to come and visit you."

You stood and stretched languidly, aware of Mark's eyes on you. "I wish I could ask you to come join me in the shower, but there's just not enough room for two people."

Mark shuffled out of the bed and came to pop a kiss on your shoulder. "Don't worry, there's plenty of space in _my_ shower."

You smiled, shivering as his stubble rasped against your skin. "Good, shower sex is my favourite."

"Oh, is it?" Mark rumbled, "we'll certainly have to investigate this in the near future."

"You're impossible." You exhaled as his hands founds their way to your hips again.

"I just love you is all." He whispered, pulling you close. There was so much warmth and affection in his voice, you melted into the embrace. As odd a conversation as it was to have post sex, you suddenly felt you couldn't hold the words back. 

"You know, I was jealous before." You said softly, "of all the girls fawning over you at PAX this weekend."

Mark's arms tensed around you. "That wasn't why you were so upset was it?" Naked in more ways than one, it felt impossible to keep anything from him. You were glad you weren't looking at him. Somehow, you felt a little less vulnerable.

"A little." You confessed. "I _did_ have a really bad day, but seeing you at PAX surrounded by the fan girls who know everything about you and all wish you were their girlfriend it was....it was hard not to feel a little insecure."

You felt his sharp intake of breath as much as you heard it. "You know I would _never_ -"

You cut him off. "Of course I do"

"But-"

"I'm not telling you this to make you feel bad." You said softly, gently shifting his hands from your hips so you could pull back to face him. "I'm telling you because I realise now how crazy it was of me to feel that way. I mean, here you are. You flew here to surprise me, just because you wanted to be with _me_. You have no idea how much that means to me."

You stood on your tiptoes and kissed him sweetly. There was none of the earlier lust in this kiss, just tenderness and that familiar, aching fondness that you always felt around him. "Thank you." You whispered.

Mark beamed at you, his whole face alight and warm with emotions that made butterflies swirl in your stomach. "You're welcome."

* * *

When Mark emerged from your shower, you were already on your couch with your diary and your phone. He padded over to you, towel still slung over his shoulder. He was wearing his red flannel this time, and a pair of blue jeans. His hair was still wet, but you knew it would fluff up in no time.

He was staring at his phone, but he looked up when you spoke.

"You'll be happy to know my laptop's not playing nice." You said, scrolling down on your phone screen.

"Oh?"

"Yeah, it booted up just fine earlier today, but now it's frozen. It's only misbehaving because you're here." You said crossly, shooting a glare at it. "Anyway, come sit on the couch with me and have a look at this."

Squishing next to you on your couch, you immediately plopped the diary down on his lap, and brushed your leg against his. One of his arms slung over your shoulder and you smiled as you pointed to the page.

"So, this is the weekend I was thinking of." You said, pointing out the date. "Would that work for you?" Mark opened the calendar on his phone and checked the dates, then frowned.

"I'm doing a live stream that weekend, and I'm in New York the weekend before..." You felt your heart sink in disappointment, but you quickly perked up when he continued. "But could you come the Monday after, the twenty ninth? And stay until the second, maybe?" 

You'd planned for a weekend, but you supposed it didn't matter if it was on a weekday. It wasn't like Mark worked a traditional Monday to Friday job, and you'd be on vacation time. 

You nodded and smiled. "That works for me." You penciled it in as Mark plugged the dates into his phone.

"Okay, cool. I'll make sure I've got lots of videos done to auto upload." He paused and looked at you contemplatively. "Hey, do you think you could maybe stay a little longer?"

"Would that be okay?" You asked, delighted at the thought.

"Wait, hang on," Mark paused and for a horrible second you thought he was going to withdraw the offer, "No, sorry. That should be okay. How about if you fly in on the Monday and leave the following Sunday?"

You blinked at him in surprise, not sure if he was joking.

"Whoa, really?" You laughed, "are you sure a week will be okay?"

He studied his phone then looked back up at you. "Well, if it's a whole week, I may need some time for recording, but you wouldn't mind, would you?"

"No, of course not!" You exclaimed, kissing his cheek. "I'd love to stay a week with you!"

"Lets book it then, lock it in!" Mark grinned. "I've got a few hectic weeks before hand, so it will be nice to take a little break."

"I'll go get my credit card." You bounded off to get your wallet and fished out the card you wanted.

A week, a _whole_ week! He'd invited you to stay a whole week!

You couldn't help but be excited. Heading back into your lounge room, you grabbed your phone then looked forlornly at your laptop. "You didn't have to last that much longer." You grumbled, glaring at the frozen screen. 

"Did you want to borrow mine?" Mark asked, half turning around on the couch so he could face you. "I've got it with me."

You thought about it for a minute. "Could you hook it up to my printer so I can print off my booking papers?"

"In like, two seconds." Mark boasted. "Let me go grab it."

The instant you nodded, Mark practically vaulted off the couch. Rushing back in with his laptop a minute later, he immediately set about unplugging all the cables still linked into yours and made a face. Gingerly, as if it were dirty, Mark picked your laptop up and deposited it on your kitchen table, then set up his beast in its place.

Sleek, shiny and massive compared to your puny-screened workhorse, you couldn't help but be impressed.

"Watch a _master_ at work." He bragged, pretending to crack his knuckles and wiggling his eyebrows when he'd sat in your chair. With a flourish, he plugged in the power and network cables and pushed the 'on' button. Less than thirty seconds later, it was already loaded into Windows with the familiar chime. It practically sprung into life - display bright and so much sharper than yours.

"It's so fast." You murmured, unable to keep the envy from your voice. It was so thin and light too probably, you couldn't help but cast a look to where your poor old lappy sat, heavy and outdated. And possibly not _actually_ broken, but....

It suddenly seemed much more tempting to get it replaced. Six years was a good life for a laptop, right?

Mark chuckled, one brow quirked as he looked at you. "You like?"

"Well, yeah. But I don't know if mines actually broken or not."

Mark sighed and shook his head, exasperated, but quickly focused back on his task. "What's your network password then?" You gave him your password and in a flash, he had connected to your internet and downloaded your printer drivers. "Should be just about done. All we need to do is get the flights booked now."

You leaned over Mark's shoulder and kissed his stubbly cheek. "That was fast. You really _are_ a master."

"Oh, yes," he preened into the compliment, "please, keep stroking my ego." He was using his 'so macho' voice and you couldn't help but laugh.

Loading up the flights website you'd been looking at a few moments before, he looked up and smiled at you proudly.

"And here you are."

"My hero." He got out of the chair and gestured to it with an exaggerated flourish. "You are such a dork." You said fondly, plonking into the offered chair. "So, from Monday the twenty ninth to the following Sunday?" You studied the little calendars on the screen and selected your dates, but your finger hovered above the touchpad, hesitant.

"Are you _sure_ it's okay for me to stay a week?"

Standing behind you as he was, it only took a slight motion for him to lean forward and click the 'confirm' button for you.

"A week with you sounds awesome." He hummed, pressing his cheek to yours as your browser loaded into the page for you to enter your credit card details.

Your stomach flipped and you felt your face get hot. The scratch of his stubble was a comforting reminder that he was _there_ , and you turned your head and angled it so you could kiss him.

It was just a short 'I love you' kiss, a sweet little affirmation, but it still made your heart thud against your ribs. These were moments you just felt so unbelievably lucky.

The series of events that had led you be with him could have so easily been changed if you haven't ever gotten that prod from Facebook that had rekindled your relationship with Mandy. It was like anything in life - all it took was one slight change, and you may have never even met Mark. You couldn't help but deepen the kiss at that thought, bringing your fingers up to run through his still damp hair.

He made a slight noise of protest at the awkward position your had him in, but his tongue still met to parlay with yours.

You hadn't even been actively looking for someone, but Mark had snuck his way into your heart. The easy, comfortable friendship had progressed into something deeper so naturally it had just felt _right_.

You broke the kiss and Mark gave you a dazed little smile.

He was about to speak, but his stomach suddenly gurgled loudly and you couldn't choke back your laugh.

"Oops, sorry! Mood killer." He said sheepishly.

"Well, okay then. I'll just print my papers off, and then how about we grab some food?"

You'd skipped lunch due to Mark's surprise arrival, and by the sounds of it, Mark hadn't eaten much on the plane.

"Food sounds great."

"Pick where you want to eat and we'll go grab a bite." You offered as you turned back to the screen and opened up your emails. Quickly printing your booking papers out, you went to pin them on your fridge. It was a little old fashioned considering all the check-in was done online now, but you still always liked to have a papers, just so you could be sure.

You'd have to clear the time off with work. You did feel a little guilty that you booked the trip first, but you were positive your boss would let you off - when you'd asked for time off for the wedding, his response had been that it was "about time".

And if you had to reschedule your flights you could always work it out. You were crossing your fingers you wouldn't have to though. It sounded too good to be true to spend a whole week with him...

"Yes!" Mark's shout drew your from your kitchen and back to where he was sitting on your couch, almost vibrating with excitement. "There's a _Cracker Barrel!_ Man, I haven't had that in soooooo long!" He turned pleading eyes to you. "I know it's like, forty minutes away, but I'll pay the gas money. Can we _please_ go there?"

You weren't planning on saying no, but even if you had been, it would have been impossible to resist his face, with those big brown eyes staring at you so beseechingly. You laughed - sometimes he really did remind you of a puppy - and nodded. He leapt to his feet and hugged you so tight you gasped a little.

"You're really _that_ excited?"

"Oh yeah! Other than my family, Cracker Barrel is one of the things I miss the most about living in L.A.! There isn't any one anywhere near California. I _love_ the food there. The chicken and dumplings are the best!"

"I can't say I've ever eaten there."

Mark's face contorted in mock horror."But you live so _close!_ "

"Didn't you say it was forty minutes? I wouldn't call that 'close'." You couldn't help but giggle at his expression. "Look, give me half an hour to get ready, and then we'll go?"

" _Half an hour?_ I'll starve!" He moaned jokingly, flopping back down on your couch and sprawling out inelegantly. His shirt rode up, exposing a delicious creamy flash of skin and scar.

"There's food in the fridge if you're that hungry. Besides, you aren't wearing shoes, and your hair is still wet."

He sighed melodramatically and rolled himself off the couch. "All very valid points."

"Plus you need to work out the directions to be navigator. I have no idea how to get to this place." You threw over your shoulder as you headed to your bathroom. You didn't hear his rumbled response, but your lips quirked up into a smile anyway.

Pulling your hair out of it's messy pony tail, you ran your brush through it. Just a little bit of make up would have to do; enough to look presentable at least, but nothing overly elaborate. If you were honest, you were pretty hungry too, so you didn't want to take too long.

And of course, you couldn't leave your poor boyfriend to starve now, could you?

* * *

Cracker Barrel had actually been...much better than you were expecting. Probably because Mark had been so excited about it.

He'd talked the whole ride there, and you couldn't help but soak up some of that enthusiasm. He'd never been to this particular one, but he was happily regaling you with his memories of visits to the Ohio branch. It was obviously a place filled with nostalgia and memories for Mark, and you knew it was more than the food he must have missed.

You hadn't wanted to admit that you hadn't really expected much from a place called 'Cracker Barrel' but you'd been pleasantly surprised. It was home style cooking done well, and the waitresses were friendly and efficient. It was no surprise that Mark had charmed them from the first moment he'd walked in the door, and you hadn't been able to keep the bemused smile off your face.

Mark had of course, ordered chicken and dumplings, and the pleasure in his expression  when he'd eaten the first mouthful had been worth the drive alone. Even better was when he'd offered you a forkful of his meal, leaning across the table with a little smile on his face. Your heart had fluttered, and you'd happily accepted the offered morsel, thrilled at the romantic gesture.

It was good, but you were perfectly happy with your pepper steak and fries. Dessert had been your favourite part though, hands down. Mark's fruit cobbler had looked delicious, but you had been intrigued by the double chocolate fudge coca-cola cake, and you hadn't regretted your choice. Rich and fudgy as its name had promised, it wasn't even overly sweet, and the coca-cola had given it a surprisingly light texture.

More than anything, it had been unbelievably wonderful to be out on a date with Mark, talking and laughing together, like couples did. Just chilling out, spending this precious time together.

You hadn't wanted it to end, but as you sat across the table and watched Mark's eyelids droop, it seemed like the excitement was finally catching up with him. For the last fifteen minutes the poor guy had been struggling to keep his eyes open, and failing to mask his yawns.

It was only just past eight, but you weren't surprised he was tired. Flying always took it out of you, and his last few days had been pretty hectic with the convention. Plus he wasn't exactly known for keeping a great sleep schedule. It was on the tip of your tongue to tell him he needed to take better care of himself, but you bit the thought back - he always got annoyed when people treated him like he didn't know his own limits. He was normally such a bundle of energy though, it was easy to tell he was sapped. Taking mercy on him, you swirled the last remains of your now soupy ice cream-chocolate mess in your plate, took once last sweet spoonful, and then pushed your bowl away.

"I am _so_ full." You groaned, leaning back in your chair. "And I'm ready to go."

"Oh, are you-" Mark covered a huge yawn with the back on his hand, "are you sure?"

You nodded, opening your purse. "We'll get the bill and head home, yeah?"

Mark nodded dopily, and pulled his wallet out. "I'll pay."

"For _your_ meal." You said firmly, "but I'll pay for my own."

Mark was one of the most generous and giving people you'd ever met. He happily flew his friend to L.A. to be with him, and was always trying to do as much as he could for charities. But you never wanted anyone to be able to say you were taking advantage of Mark, in _any_ form. When the truth about your relationship did eventually come out - because it was bound to if you stayed together for long enough - it was surely going to be messy enough without anyone saying you were trying to leech money or fame from him. People would say it anyway, but if you made sure you never took money from him, you could at least hold your head high. Thank goodness you never planned to do YouTube, so at least no one could say you were with him for subscribers.

Mark frowned a little and tried to protest but you shook your head.

"I'm all for chivalry, but I can pay for my own things."

"I just want to treat you." He said, pouting a little as he shuffled out of his seat.

"Well, when it's my birthday, I'll let you buy me a meal, okay? But dates like this, I pay my own way."

He handed you a few bills and conceded with a sulky little "okay". You popped a kiss on his cheek.

"That's my good, modern boyfriend." He at least cracked a smile at that.

Taking his hand, you headed up to the register and paid your bill, thanking all the staff who'd served you.

You let Mark hold the door open for you and shivered against the slight chill of the night air. Pulling your jacket around yourself, Mark tugged you into him and gave your hip a little squeeze. You walked with Mark's solid arm looped around you until you got to your little blue Mazda and started the search for your keys.

It was one of the great mysteries of the universe that every woman faced - no matter how big or small a purse you used, you could never seem to find anything in it. You could hear your keys jingling in there, yet when you reached in, your purse suddenly seemed bottomless...

"Hey," Mark interrupted, "Want me to drive?"

You paused from your purse spelunking to give him an incredulous look. "Uh, no." You laughed, giving him a little good-natured nudge as he yawned again. "Not if we want to get home."

Which wasn't going to go well if you couldn't get your keys from whatever Narnia they seemed to have disappeared to.

Giving up, you let out a frustrated noise and tipped your bag upside down. The solid tinkling clang of your keys (and your lipgloss, loose change and other miscellaneous bits) was your reward. You snagged your keys and jammed everything else back into your purse. Pressing the immobiliser and unlocking the doors, you both slid into your respective sides of the car.

Turning on the heat and the radio, you pulled out of the parking lot. You were both silent for a few moments before Mark spoke.

"Hey, thanks for bringing me here." He was looking pensively out the window, and the street lights you passed illuminated the dark circles under his eyes. You frowned a little at how serious he looked all of the sudden.

"You're welcome. I had a great time. You know, we should do this more often."

He let out a tired little chuckle as your joke fell flat. 

"I wish we could. You know, whenever I come out and spend time like this with anyone, I remember how much I miss living in Ohio...How much I miss everyone." 

"But...L.A. is good too, right?" It felt weird, not looking at him, but you had to keep your eyes on the road. There hadn't been any hint of this serious conversation earlier on in the night and you didn't want to interrupt too much if he needed to get something off his chest.

"Yeah, it's great for my career." He sighed, more than a little melancholy. "And I've met some amazing people. It's given me so many opportunities to keep doing what I love but I just..."

Out of the corner of you eye, you saw him run his fingers through his hair.

"You just?" You prompted gently.

"For the first time in years, I guess I'm just starting to get lonely there. I dunno, when I first arrived I was so excited and I was always happy living on my own, but I think I'm just starting to really miss my friends and family and whole lot more. And...I miss _you_."

"But being there does make you happy, right?" You were glad you'd pulled up to a red light so you could give him your full attention.  You tilted your head to study him, but he was still staring thoughtfully out the window. "You still want to be doing what you do?"

His lips curled up a little, a half attempt at a smile. "Yeah, it really is the best. I still have so much more good I can do, and I want to keep doing it for as long as I can."

You put your hand on his thigh and gave it a comforting little squeeze.

"Maybe..." it was worth a shot, "maybe if you try to give yourself a few more breaks? Go see your friends more, come visit me, go see your mom. People will understand. Hell, your fans are forever telling you to take better care of yourself anyway."

Mark's brows narrowed crossly as he turned to look at you. "I can take-"

But Mark's retort was cut off when the car behind you honked its horn. The light had gone green, but you were still stopped. You gave them the universal 'sorry' sheepish shrug-wave and drove off from the lights.

"I _know_ you can take care of yourself." You said firmly, not letting him continue his protest, "but I'm just thinking out loud, okay? If you feel lonely, then spending more time with the people you love is surely the answer."

Some of the fight left him, and from the corner of your eye you saw him shuffle down in his seat. "Maybe I should." he murmured softly. Surprised, you decided not to push your luck...That answer was more than you'd expected.

You both fell back into comfortable silence. After a few moments, he pulled his phone out, and your mind went to your potential L.A. move. Maybe you should say something to him? Maybe if you told him you were thinking about moving closer, that might help him feel a little better? You weren't being arrogant, were you?

"Hey, Mark?" You tried to keep the hesitance from your voice. If you just-

Your thoughts were interrupted though by a soft rumbling snore, and you flicked your eyes over to Mark. He was out like a light, his forehead resting against the window and his lips slightly parted as he slept, phone still clutched in his hand. He looked adorable, but you felt the little twist of concern that he'd been so tired that he couldn't even wait until you'd gotten home to fall asleep.

The words had been on the tip of your tongue, but maybe it was for the best you _hadn't_ said anything. You couldn't move to L.A. just for him, it needed to be for _you_.

Oh, he was certainly a huge factor in swaying your decision, but if you moved for him and things went wrong, you'd be in a world of trouble and resentment, and you didn't want that.

You weren't sure in yourself yet whether it was what you wanted to do. Sure, you missed him like crazy too, but this was a huge decision to make, and you didn't want to feel pressured into anything.

More so, the fact that you were thinking about shifting after just a few months together? That was nuts, but something about the idea of waking up next to Mark more than twice in three months was so _alluring_. The idea of casual time, or lazy weekends together, the promise of more than just visits...It sounded too wonderful.

You were so in love with him it was scary. You just wanted to be with him, be around him as much as you could.

But, you needed to consider all the facts and think long and hard about your decision...You needed to be sensible. You couldn't let your heart run away with you. You'd always been practical and level headed, and this was your future, not some snap decision. Hell, you'd been with Jonathon for almost a year and you hadn't even been thinking like this!

And moving to L.A. would be such an enormous change. There'd be nothing worse than moving there and realising it wasn't what you wanted to do...

Your heart didn't seem to be listening though.

Mark mumbled something unintelligible under his breath and shifted in the seat, but his eyes stayed closed and you felt that familiar tug of affection pulling at your heart.

You could _say_ you needed to think about it all you wanted, but as you listened to the gentle sound of Mark breathing, you couldn't fight the way him being near you made you feel, and you couldn't help but think that as hard as you tried to deny it, you had probably already made your choice.

 

The End

**Author's Note:**

> =(^x^)=  
> Thanks for reading!


End file.
